


Deep in the night

by thatskyquill



Series: The Exorcist and the Faithful [3]
Category: Faith (Airdorf Video Game), The Exorcist (1973)
Genre: (yeah drugs and addiction tw basically), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Angst, Arguing, Conflict, Crossover, Dark fic, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Slice of Life, Smoking, Unresolved Tension, tension in friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:27:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24418867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatskyquill/pseuds/thatskyquill
Summary: Dwelling in the mortal realm as a ghost and tasked with watching over an equally troubled priest, Karras has the worse times besides the better.
Series: The Exorcist and the Faithful [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1787290
Kudos: 7





	Deep in the night

Deep in the night, Karras sat on the roof, easily balancing himself, gazing at the orange-lit streets whose lone loitering figures were unaware that they were under a ghost's watchful eyes. Tonight, John slept soundly, with no screams from nightmares and no ill omen from his aura.

Today was rough.

He would not change. He had been smoking every other day plus a swig of alchohol whenever he was in the house. It was worrying. In fact, it would not be for any ghost, but the psychological ailment was cathartically horrifying.

At times, Karras pitied him, for he saw his own reflection enacting the same brief self-crafted salvation in response to being imprisoned in the same cage, his past self pacing around the house through his mistakes. John was his shadow and how he knew he was not suffering alone.

At other times, he was tired. And angry. And irritated. Black vines snaked around his heart that wish to _unleash_ _and devour_ —

Oh, how he was so devastated for his friend.

_You've got to stop._

Not enough smoke had poured out of his mouth when he had taken another drag.

_... I want to. I deserve it anyway._

_John, this is too dangerous for you. It has health hazards when it accumulates in your liver, and I'm not even sure whether we can stop Gary._

_... Why is it always you? Everywhere I go, there you are always in some corner following me around and I am suddenly reminded of all the wrong things I have done. I'm never good enough, right enough! If God has a reason for me to end up like this is it to prove how wrong I am?_

Karras had tried to be gentle, but what little fiery emotion he had frosted into ice. The only compassion was logical and obligatory, summoned by rationale. _I did not know either. I was free until I came here and met you, and for that I am thankful._

 _Then why can't I banish you?!_ A ferocious shake of a head. _Oh God!_

John had darted to his bedroom with an alchohol in hand. Karras had followed and telepathically pulled it away from him, but not before the sharp ache in his head due to the cross. The bottle had thudded to the floor. Nothing in the house had broken. There went a silent afternoon, except John did nothing whenever Karras pleaded to him.

When will it end? The confessions back in the younger days ranged from useless paranoia to truthful accounts of wrongdoings, and this was not an unusual case. But back then he absolved every sinner, right now he was living — accompanying with one. There were happier times, but their sweetness could not win over the bitter sorrow in this starless night.

Karras felt it again, just like the last time they argued, just like when witnessing his mother: the tiredness gnawing away, only to slow as his feelings dulled and numbed. It was easier fighting it now, as his senses faded and were no longer prone to human outbursts. But it was always there, like a storm cloud that never rains, hanging over him and casting shadows only he can see. Down at the lovely quiet streets, he inhaled and exhaled so much air. His chest heaved, but his lungs did not expand and expel air current and molecules. What was it he sucked in, or was it as instinctual as yawning?

So much opportunity for leaving, but he thought honestly: Giving up is not an option, as well as arriving at Heaven with an empty hand and zero consequences.


End file.
